I got such a “good” response to the photo of me in my home-made camouflage uniform homecoming dress the other day that I just went hunting through photo albums to find a picture of the other home-made dress that I wore to Senior Prom a few years later. 
My mom made it, I don’t think I sewed a stitch. It had a darling little half-jacket and a gold belt. At least it started out with a gold belt, since that is what I was wearing in the pre-party photo taken at home, although it’s missing here.
Unlike the homecoming dance 4 years earlier, I have lots of memories of this party. It was a good one, even though the theme was Paradise Theater. They don’t have any tradition of proms here in Sweden, which I find kind of sad. I know some people think the whole prom thing is completely retarded, but mine was magical, just like something out of a movie. My boyfriend and I double-dated with one of my best friends and her date (who was just a friend and later ended up marrying HER best friend), and we went to a swanky German restaurant for dinner, and I stayed the night with Lyndi after we finally got home very early in the morning. It was great.
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Yesterday was horrible because I didn’t listen to my body which was insistently trying to get my attention and tell me I was SICK and I shouldn’t be going to work, so I did go to work but after 2 hours and a sudden sureness that I was either going to faint or throw up, both things I really do NOT want to do at work, I got up, put my coat on, stuck my head in my boss’ office and told her abruptly that I wasn’t going to make the scheduled afternoon meetings because I had to go home RIGHT NOW. Then I got in the car (just where you want to put a faint, feverish, nauseated person!) and drove myself home to bed. The sun was shining, too, and all I could do was put my arm up to block it out of my eyes and after I got home, turn over and pull the covers over my head. I’m sorry, sun! Please come back! I swear I didn’t mean it, it wasn’t anything personal, honest! Then someone stuck a bunch of knives down my throat and whacked me upside the head and the rest is all a blur. This morning, despite the knives, I felt obligated to drag my sorry ass to work (last day! before vacation! can’t leave things in a state of disarray for a week! So what if no one else will be in the office next week. Honestly, Liz, what are you trying to prove??) and after I got there I was greeted by my boss telling me she had just been looking up my home number to call and tell me to stay home and rest. I promised I’d leave as soon as I could after I finished up the things I needed to, and I did, in fact, make it out the door at 2 p.m.
I didn’t go straight home though. I ran errands. And when I got home, I didn’t rest. I did the things I had scheduled on my to-do list for today…although I did let the kids help. What am I trying to prove? I’ll tell you what I’m trying to prove. I’m trying to prove that I’M NOT SICK, DAMMIT. *grumble*